


I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry

by orphan_account



Series: After Eros [1]
Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Angst, Feelings, Friends with Benefits(?), M/M, Unrequited Love, possible canon divergence because I can’t remember shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-22 17:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22119613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Miller died on Eros to save Earth. Holden wishes he hadn’t.
Relationships: Jim Holden/Joe Miller
Series: After Eros [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644199
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry

Holden didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop screaming.

It hadn’t started when he thought it would. He felt calm (more like numb) when Miller’s comms stopped working and they lost connection. He’d stayed that way as he watched Eros fly past the window of the Roci for the last time. Maybe it was that nagging sense of hope deep in his chest that he’d get one last message from Miller, or at least that one of his would go through. The little sliver of a chance that he’d get to say goodbye.

He’d watched the video feed along with the rest of the crew (hell, the rest of the _system_ ) as Eros sailed through the Belt, then dangerously close past Earth. It wasn’t great footage, barely more exciting than someone throwing a rock across a field and filming it, but he watched intently whenever new footage came in. He wondered if Miller had died yet, succumbing to thirst while hiding deep in the belly of Eros. Or, possibly more worryingly, if he was still alive, assimilated into the protomolecule’s horrific structure and living on as a web of thick blue goo. At the time, he’d made himself not care. He’d built a thick shell around himself, moving around the ship in a mere imitation of ordinary fashion. There was nothing there. He was utterly empty, devoid of feeling, and for the moment that made everything seem okay.

Then Eros collided with Venus, and everything inside him came crashing down.

He’d excused himself to his quarters, already feeling the hot sting of tears in his eyes. _No one should ever see him like this. No one could know how much it hurt._ He practically tripped over his own boots as he ran into his tiny little room, collapsed on the bed, and buried his face in the pillow. It had been soaked with tears before Holden could even place what he was crying about.

Miller was dead. Either consumed by the protomolecule, or burned and suffocated by the poison atmosphere of Venus, he was gone. No more chance that he’d somehow contact Holden now. Gone.

Holden inhaled deeply, getting a noseful of sweat and body odour from the pillow. There was something faint there, though. Something sweet-bittersweet, really. Like raspberries and some kind of hard alcohol. It was a cologne, a fairly pricey one, meant to smell like some distant star that was made of some weird compound that supposedly mimicked that sickly-sweet smell perfectly. This was probably the most expensive thing Miller had owned, gifted to him by what he had called a “past lover” and kept hidden in the lining of his coat for special occasions.

Holden felt honoured that Miller considered time with him such a special occasion. More than that, he felt unworthy. The raspberry-star perfume was gone now, melted in the toxic atmosphere of Venus, its only remnants buried in the sweaty fabric of Holden’s pillow.

_Why me? Why was I special? Why, out of everyone on the ship, would he pick me?_

Over the years of sleeping around with his shipmates (“being a nasty fucking space whore”, as Amos had so eloquently put it), he’d gotten different answers from different people as to why they wanted to share a bunk with him for the night. He was charming. He was sweet. He had a nice ass. Holden had a feeling Miller didn’t care about any of those things. Miller didn’t care about shit.

And yet, he’d done things that made Holden think otherwise.

Miller didn’t act like he cared. He was a man with needs, he’d stick his dick in anything that was warm and had the right sized hole. But that had never made sense to Holden. Miller hadn’t been spending his cop salary on hookers, he’d spent it chasing Julie and the bastards who killed her, even after the money had stopped coming in. He wasn’t some apathetic, self-destructive man looking for cheap fun before he ran out of air. Or at least, he wasn’t like that all the time. Miller felt things deeply, pain and love and all kinds of human emotions he’d never admit to having.

This was what Holden saw in Miller. A deep, tortured, emotional man who needed some way to express those feelings that didn’t involve drowning himself in alcohol or taking a knife to his (or someone else’s) throat. And Holden was happy to be the means for him to do that, less so for the act itself and more so to see Miller afterwards, just that tiniest bit more vulnerable.

He’d kissed Holden once. Only once, and it had stayed in the back of Holden’s mind ever since. It was strange to even imagine Miller kissing someone, and yet he had. The act was a blur-Holden half-kneeling, cum and spit slick on his lips, Miller standing over him zipping up his jumpsuit, and then suddenly their lips meeting as if by magic. Miller had excused it as a desire to know how he tasted on Holden’s lips, some vanity-fueled power play of revelling in the mess he’d made of another human being. But it hadn’t felt like that. It felt gentle, tender, just long enough for Holden’s heart to surge with a still-unidentifiable feeling, but not long enough for him to really realize what was happening and that all he wanted in the entire universe was _more_. He’d hesitated to wipe his mouth afterwards, stewing in the unpleasant aftertaste of a blowjob if only to keep the feeling of that kiss on his lips.

And now he’d never get a chance to feel that again. He’d never get more, he’d never be able to convince Miller to just hold him, kiss him, show some raw human emotions around him, because Miller was gone, he was fucking dead and he wasn’t coming back.

That was when Holden started screaming. Just trying to process the idea that Miller could be gone felt like hammering a nail directly through his skull. Like being melted inside out by radiation all over again. It _hurt_ , it was physically painful to think about. So he screamed, muffled only by the thin pillow and (hopefully) the metal walls of the room, because he couldn’t think about anything else.

It struck him that he should be down there with Miller, back on Eros, just like how it was when they met. Coughing up blood and suffocating on their own melted insides, holding each other’s mauled bodies up for as long as possible. Maybe they would’ve been able to kiss once more as they burned in the atmosphere of Venus, their bodies melted together and staying that way forever.

The thought should’ve been concerning, but Holden ignored it. He didn’t want to die. He just wanted to die with Miller.

 _At least Miller had Julie,_ he thought. Julie was as close as Miller came to expressing complex feelings about another human being. It wouldn’t even be a stretch to say he loved her. At least in some capacity, Miller had spent his last moments with her, lying alongside her body and listening to her voice. Julie had brought him some comfort in his last moments. Maybe he didn’t die alone and afraid and in pain. Maybe he didn’t die screaming, but rather calm and quiet, curled up alongside the girl he’d spent his final days chasing.

But this thought only made Holden want to scream more. He’d kissed her, hadn’t he? He’d held her hand. He’d laid next to her as he died. Some awful, selfish, cruel part of Holden decided he deserved that. For a moment he almost wished he and Miller had died of radiation poisoning on Eros back then, their bodies intertwined in an ever-growing pool of blood, the warmth of each other’s bodies a sweet comfort in contrast with the horrible itching burn of radiation eating them alive. He’d have cried into Miller’s coat, not worrying about how he would think of him afterwards because there was no afterwards, and Miller would just lay there and act content about it, no matter how terrified he was.

Now, there was no way of knowing if Miller ever felt about Holden the same way he’d felt about Julie. In fact, he probably didn’t. Holden had to face it eventually-he was just a warm hole for Miller to stick his dick into. A warm hole without Amos and Naomi’s aversion to sleeping with coworkers, and without Alex’s… grating cowboy accent? Poorly timed witty remarks? Whatever it was, Holden happened to be the most tolerable. It didn’t matter that they’d almost died together. Holden didn’t deserve anything. He wasn’t special to Miller, he never could have been. If he was, Miller would’ve spent a lot less time fucking him and a lot more time kissing him.

Right?

That hurt almost as much as Miller’s death. It had to be true. Of course Miller didn’t love him. The kiss didn’t mean shit.

His screams sounded more like sobs now. Someone was knocking on the door of his quarters. He couldn’t get up to let them in. He couldn’t even invite them in, provided the door was unlocked. He couldn’t do anything but sit there and scream.

“Holden?” It was Naomi. That was good, at least, she’d probably be the most comforting presence of the other three. If it was up to him, of course, Holden would’ve picked screaming into the void forever, but between his three shipmates he definitely preferred Naomi. Alex didn’t really have the tact to be comforting, and Amos tended to get cold and distant when he tried to process any emotion besides anger.

The door clicked open, evidently unlocked, and Holden heard the tap of Naomi’s boots as she moved across the room to sit next to him on the bed. He didn’t acknowledge her, which felt rude, but he just physically couldn’t.

She rubbed his back in an attempt to get him to calm down. It felt nice, but it didn’t help much. Then she ran her fingers through his hair, and Holden transitioned into weeping.

Her hands reminded him of Miller. It made sense-they were both Belters, and they had the long bony fingers to match. But the context was all wrong. Miller had always laced his fingers through Holden’s hair as Holden sucked him off, not to push him to a point where he’d be uncomfortable but rather to simply guide slowly back and forth. It was a comforting touch, a feeling he now associated with the warmth of Miller’s thighs and the fullness of something in his mouth. To have someone touch him like that outside of that context felt dirty, like reaching your hand down your pants and touching yourself in public. He didn’t move away from the touch, but it made his stomach turn a bit, and it made him long for Miller to touch him like that again. The realisation that that would never happen hit him like a wave, and he let out another scream of emotional agony.

“Holden, what’s wrong?” Naomi asked softly. “You’re sad we couldn’t save Eros?”

Holden thought about that. It would’ve made sense. Sure, he wished there had been a way to reverse the effects of the protomolecule and restore Eros to whatever glory it had had before the attack. But he knew deep down that wouldn’t have gotten to him this much. If that safety hadn’t failed, if Miller had been able to just drop the bomb and get off Eros…

They didn’t even need the bombs. If they had just found some way to toss it into Venus from the beginning, if they hadn’t bothered with the bombs at all, Miller would never have gone in. He would’ve come back to the Roci, safe and sound. Maybe it wouldn’t have gone that way in reality, but Holden decided in this fantasy that he’d hold Miller in his arms afterwards, holding onto him like his life depended on it and never ever letting go.

Miller shouldn’t have died. He didn’t deserve to die. Holden screamed again.

“You have got to stop wailing like that,” Naomi lectured. “I think you’ve frightened the others.”

Holden didn’t care. Alex and Amos were big boys, they could suck it up and let him weep in peace.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t save Eros, but if it makes you feel any better, we probably did all we could. Even if Miller hadn’t killed that scientist, I doubt we’d have ever figured out how to create a vaccine-”

“Do _not_ make this his fault!” Holden screamed. “He fucking _died_ trying to fix this shit. He died for Earth. He died for a planet that would have sucked the air straight out of his Belter mouth if it felt like it, you know that.”

“Just because I’m a Belter doesn’t mean I think Earth deserves to get pummeled to death with an asteroid. And besides, I just said that him killing that man didn’t make a difference.”

“Maybe it did. Protogen’s an Earth company. Earth killed Eros, maybe Eros should’ve returned the favour.”

“What makes you say that?”

Holden didn’t know. Would he really have been okay with a hunk of space rock destroying his home, his family, his entire planet, if it meant keeping his fuck buddy alive?

 _He wasn’t just a fuck buddy. There was more to it, there was something there._ But still, it didn’t excuse the destruction of an entire planet.

“Naomi…” he said, his voice a crackling whine. “Do you think… do you think that Miller loved Julie?”

“That’s an odd question.”

“I’m serious. Do you think he loved her?”

“I don’t know that it’s possible, considering he never met her. On the other hand, I think he believed he was in love with her.”

“Isn’t that what matters?”

“I think… Miller was a man with a very warped idea of love. Anyone who falls that hard for someone they’ve only seen in pictures can’t possibly have a very healthy idea of love.”

“You think he kissed her?”

“When?”

“On Eros, when it was flying into Venus. Do you think he kissed her?”

“I mean, I guess he had just enough of a fractured psyche to decide to make out with a corpse.”

“He was dying,” Holden muttered. “I wouldn’t blame him.”

“Are you defending necrophilia?”

“I’m defending a dying man who just wanted one last kiss from the person he loved.”

“You’re disgusting, Holden.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Naomi paused, staring off at the blank metal wall for a moment before speaking again.

“You miss him.”

“What?”

“You’re defending him because you miss him. You don’t feel bad about not saving Eros, you feel bad about not saving Miller.” There was a twinge of disgust in her voice, which Holden supposed he deserved.

“I… yeah, I guess I do,” Holden conceded. He still had tears pouring down his face, but he had calmed down enough that he could at least talk without it coming out as choked sobs. He held the pillow tightly to his chest. 

“I never realised you two were so close.”

_Good. That was good. If Naomi didn’t pick up on it, no one had._

“It’s… hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

“I think I just saw something in him. Like, maybe when we were on Eros together, he said something, and I was like ‘wow, this guy has real feelings’. And then I spent a long time trying to get to those feelings, but I never really could. Like I saw something, but I could never hold onto it long enough to-to really understand.”

“You wanted to save him from something.”

“I guess, yeah. Like it just seemed like something was hurting him, and I wanted to get at it. Fix it, I guess.”

“You just can’t help but play hero, can you?”

“He was just… so _cute_ when he was having human emotions.”

Naomi laughed. Holden was glad she glossed over the “cute” part. It was true-maybe he wouldn’t quite call it cute, but Miller definitely got a little softer after getting blown. He’d slump down into the bed, his hair falling into his face, suddenly overtaken by a sort of post-fuck sleepiness that made him look significantly more human. He never did it for fear of freaking Miller out, but Holden often considered using that time to wrap his arms around Miller, rub his back and play with his hair and kiss his cheeks until he was just comfortable enough to start talking about his past. But, of course, Miller didn’t take kindly to such gestures, so Holden had to live with the brief glances he got of that less guarded, more emotional Miller as he zipped up his jumpsuit and thanked Holden for his service.

“Wish I’d been able to see that,” she said. “Would’ve been nice to know he felt something other than apathy.”

Holden blushed.

“It was nice, yeah. I think there was some kind of… sweet, vulnerable kid at the core of all his cop talk and pessimism. Before he joined Star Helix, before he saw… everything. He was human. He was loving and sweet, and that part of him still existed somewhere deep down.”

“How’d you even manage to see any of that?” Naomi asked. “He just seems so guarded, I don’t think there was ever enough alcohol on the entire ship to get him drunk enough to spill his guts.”

“No, he wasn’t drunk. At least that wasn’t what made him start to crack.”

“Then how the hell did you do it?”

“I… I’d rather not talk about it.” Holden squeezed the pillow to his chest and started crying a little harder.

“You fucked him into submission?”

Holden looked at her. She was smiling sympathetically, he was almost certain she was joking, but the closeness to the truth scared him.

“Would you actually believe me if I said yes to that?”

“I guess not. Still don’t know how you actually did it though.”

“Y’know, it’s crazy how close to right you are,” Holden mumbled. Some part of his brain screamed at him to shut up, to never let anyone catch onto any of this, but his mouth had lost its filter.

“You’re serious.”

“You don’t have to believe me, but… god I feel like a whore right now. I swear I actually saw something in him, whatever happened-and frankly what happened is none of your business-I did it because I genuinely wanted to know that part of him. I wanted to find some part of him I could care about. And I did, it was just really hard to actually get to.”

“Honestly, Holden, I couldn’t care less about your sex life. In fact, don’t tell me a single detail. I really don’t want to imagine this.”

“He really was sweet, you know. You make it sound like he’s just gross.”

“Hey, your business is your business. Do you maybe think I should get off your bed, though?”

Holden went even redder in the face.

“No. It’s clean. Trust me.”

Naomi sighed, maintaining her position on the cot next to Holden but still looking a little uncomfortable as she looked around the room. Holden followed her gaze, and felt a little uneasy himself. He knew what had happened in there. He wasn’t ashamed of it, but he wasn’t proud of it. It definitely wasn’t the kind of thing he wanted to talk about with any of his (living) shipmates.

“You were in love with him,” Naomi said quietly, not bothering to look at Holden to gage his reaction.

“I… I never let myself think about that.”

“Whatever you did, you did it because you wanted to get to know him. Find a part of him you could connect to, care about. You loved him.”

“Is that really love?”

“I mean, it’s closer to love than anything he ever had with Julie. Whether he knew it or not.”

“Shit,” Holden muttered. He’d been avoiding that question in his own mind since long before Miller’s death. He couldn’t love Miller. That would never end well. There was no way Miller would ever love him back. Miller probably wasn’t even capable of it. It might’ve even been a stretch to say Miller cared about Holden.

And just like that he was crying again, no pillow in front of his face to muffle it this time, just harsh ugly sobs floating out into the open. Because no matter how Miller felt, Holden cared about Miller. Some deeply repressed part of him might’ve even loved Miller. It was just so fucking hard to let go of that.

“Holden, I’m so sorry,” Naomi whispered.

“It’s okay. He probably didn’t know. He probably wouldn’t have ever loved me back.”

“So? If anything, I’d guess that makes it hurt more.”

“I didn’t know he was gonna die. I never would’ve let him set foot on Eros if I knew.”

“He literally saved Earth, Holden. Your home, your family, everything you love… he died for that.”

“Just because I’m an Earther doesn’t mean I don’t love anything that isn’t nailed to Earth! I loved _him_ , Naomi. We can talk about my family when they’re burning alive in the atmosphere of Venus, but in the meantime, Miller’s the one who died horribly before I had a chance to say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry. I… I know how much you must miss him.”

“I don’t know if I ever would’ve gotten through to him. It might’ve ended up being all for nothing anyway.”

“He spent his last days with the man who loved him. That’s gotta count for something.”

“He didn’t spend his last days with me. He spent them with Julie. The girl he never met alive and yet was somehow madly in love with.”

“We don’t know that. He could’ve been eaten alive by the protomolecule a few minutes after we lost connection. Maybe he wasn’t even lucid during Eros’s flight into Venus.”

“Still, I mean, there was time in between… in between _us_ and Eros.”

“But I’m sure he remembered it,” Naomi said with a smirk. Holden half-smiled through his tears.

“He better fucking remember it. Needy little shit.”

“Alex said he heard someone moaning in your quarters a couple days after we left Tycho. We figured he was messing with us.”

“Tell Alex to mind his own damn business.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do that.” She stood up and walked towards the door of Holden’s quarters before turning back for a moment. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, just… I need to be alone for a while, okay?”

“That’s understandable,” she replied, stepping out and shutting the door behind her.

Holden layed back down on his bed, still clutching the pillow to his chest. He was still crying, but the full-body sobs had subsided. He thought fondly of Miller-the warmth of his thighs, his long fingers combing through his hair, that stupid fucking hat. Maybe there wasn’t ever going to be a day Holden didn’t miss those things. Maybe he should get one of those old metal lockets and keep a small photo of Miller inside, tucked under his jumpsuit against his chest for safekeeping. Miller would’ve found it ridiculous, but Holden found the idea a little bit comforting. If there was even a place that sold such a thing anymore, he’d be sure to get one.

In the meantime, he kept Miller close in his mind, clinging tightly to everything about him: how he felt, how he smelled, the sound of his voice. The way his greasy hair hung in his eyes when he couldn’t be bothered to pull it behind his ears or under his hat. It was all so endearing in the weirdest way, and Holden felt warm remembering it.

Miller had mentioned his imaginary relationship with Julie once or twice. Before, Holden had regarded it as the mad ramblings of a confused and damaged man, but he understood it now. Of course Miller didn’t think Julie was actually with him, she just served as a comfort and a guide for Miller to hold onto when he didn’t have anything else. And now, when Holden thought of Miller, that’s what he saw. A wry smile under the shadow of that ridiculous hat, telling him wordlessly that it was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Sagittarius B2 is a dust cloud surrounding a star at the center of the Milky Way which contains a molecule called Ethyl Formate, causing it to smell like raspberries and rum.
> 
> I might write a sequel to this exploring Holden’s feelings after Miller comes back as a protomolecule ghost projection or whatever he was. This is my first fic for this show so sorry if it’s... bad


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